ST. LOUIS --- Rust covers the old Gateway now.
It's a relic, buried on the scrap heap. Look through a media guide, and most of the references to the Gateway Football Conference are gone. Players and coaches pounded home one extra point this week --- they work in the Missouri Valley Football Conference.
Of course, a few people slipped at the meeting with the media here. One player made absolutely no apologies for stripping the rust from the old days.
"Yeah, I'll always call it Gateway," Northern Iowa defensive tackle Mark Huygens said. "Call it whatever you want. It doesn't matter. It'll be the same type of football played."
That's a good call by Huygens. Ultimately, this group of nine teams will make its name on the scoreboard. If Northern Iowa or North Dakota State or someone else travels to Chattanooga and claims a Football Championship Subdivision crown, the league gains national recognition. Should Appalachian State rule once more, the MVFC plays second string.
Nonetheless, Huygens' thoughts on Gateway vs. Valley Football throw light on the process of change, and how we deal with it. It's not always easy.
No one can argue that the new name was a bad idea. The Missouri Valley Conference has become a high profile basketball league, no matter what hardened arteries like Digger Phelps believe.
If that brand --- slightly modified for football purposes --- can be attached to a group of programs in search of greater prominence on the gridiron, that's fine. To succeed these days, you need a good QB, a solid O-line, and a great sense of PR.
What's troubling is, if a talented college football player like Huygens trips once over the name switch, what's to become of a middle-ager like me? Awash in a sea of change, it's becoming tougher to make the labels stick. I worry about that problem every day here at the Waterloo-Cedar Falls Clarion.
Not long ago, my wife asked me, "What do they call Bank One Ballpark now?" That's where the Arizona Diamondbacks play baseball. When we watched Iowa State win the
Insight.com Bowl at Phoenix in 2000, it owned a very simple nickname ? the BOB. Beautiful.
Eight years later, I knew the name had changed. But what was it? I had no clue. Was it the Cactus? Eventually, I discovered, the BOB is now Chase Field. That's another bank. It's also a name so lacking in sports charm, my rate of interest in the whole matter promptly plunged.
That's what we must deal with today. Then there's the multiple choice tests.
Missouri Valley Football Conference officials have issued a set of guidelines. It's fine to use MVFC when discussing the re-branded league. Valley Football is great. But, thou shalt not call it the MVC. That's a separate league, we're told.
Fair enough. If I slip, though, what's the punishment for being wrong? Being locked in a room and forced to watch the Oakland Raiders highlight tape from 2007?
I hope to safely negotiate the thicket of acronyms for the Missouri Valley Football Conference. Then I'll dive into another problem ? keeping the bowl games straight.
That's a mine field. Over the last 30 years, for example, the Sun Bowl has changed sponsors the way Zsa Zsa Gabor discarded husbands. John Hancock climbed aboard. Then Wells Fargo. Then Vitalis. Then Norwest. Now, it's the Brut Sun Bowl. And I need a breath of fresh air.
I'm not giving up, though. Change can be good. It can improve our lives. It can enhance one's identity.
Near the turn of the 20th century, a group of universities formed a group called the Intercollegiate Conference of Faculty Representatives. According to Wikipedia, these schools formally changed the name in 1987, adopting a label that had been used publicly for decades --- the Big Ten.
What a good idea. Can you imagine trying to cram "Intercollegiate Conference of Faculty Representatives" on a basketball court logo? It would be out of bounds.
So I'll learn to live with the Missouri Valley Football Conference. Goodbye, Gateway. Enjoy retirement.
Meanwhile, I'll keep track of the names in the news. I hear a really good quarterback may make a comeback. His name is Favre. Brock Favre.
Contact Jim Sullivan at (319) 291-1434 or
jim.sullivan@wcfcourier.com